Diary of Adrianna Cocoa Denosove
by whiskey in the impala
Summary: I am a Hufflepuff and I am proud.  That pride is in no way diminished by my sitting in this modest toilet cubicle.  No, I am here because I find it fullfilling to be on my own and contemplating my thoughts.  Yeah...
1. Chapter 1

**September 1****st**

**11:05am**

**Toilet cubicle on the Hogwarts Express**

I, Adrianna Cocoa Denosove, am not scared. Quite the contrary in fact. I am sat in this modest toilet cubicle because I find it very fulfilling to be on my own and contemplating my thoughts. My thoughts which are in no possible way informing me that I am acting cowardly and that it was no wonder that I never landed my arse in Gryffindor. Which between you and me I can never be more thankful for, such an act of Merlin for not placing me in there with such irrational people was truly one of mercy.

I am a Hufflepuff. And I am proud.

Being locked in a toilet cubicle, hiding, in no way diminishes my pride.

Nor does my (quite rational) fear of the people in this school.

However, my pride does not in any way stop me from waiting here until my friends notice that I have not yet arrived to find them in their compartment and come straight to the toilet and pick me up. As soon as they actually stop to think about it they'll know I'm here. They are capable of following my train of thought. It's quite unnerving actually. I have faith, I have friends in Ravenclaw. Their meant to be smart, right?

So, someone enlighten me as to what's taking them so bloody long. I swear to the all holy and wonderful Merlin that when they eventually take pity on me and get up off of their lazy arses to save me from humiliating myself before the year starts (like I have managed to do for the previous five years) that I am going to kill them in a very slow and revenge seeking way…is splashing toilet water on them too harsh? I think not, whilst the Hogwarts castle itself may be quite grand and extraordinary I can assure you, this cubicle is not. If I was on better terms with Dumbledore, strike that, if I was on any terms with Dumbledore, I'd tell him myself that for the price we pay for this pretentious school these toilets are just not up to standards.

Mahaha. I feel freedom on the horizon. I hear footsteps coming this way and what sounds like giggling. Woo-ness all round. They have finally decided to take pity on me and take me back to their train compartment. A feeling is swelling up inside me. It's either love or nausea from my sudden excitement. This is what prisoners must feel like when they learn that they are being set free early and can go and wreak more havoc upon the outside world.

**11:30am**

**Train compartment**

Lady Luck, I assure you now, is a bitch. And hope is a damning notion. Both should be shot. It is a hard mission but if someone provides the artillery I will gladly accept such a fulfilling job. Naturally if you wanted to pay me at the same time I wouldn't refuse, I'm not that stupid. However, I am, I am sad to admit (yes that pride I had not twenty minutes ago has completely diminished and turned to ashes, never to return again), stupid.

As soon as I heard the giggling and was overcome by that strange feeling, which I have now learnt was a lapse in my sanity and a sharp fall into the pit of stupidity, I practically lunged out of the compartment, ready to embrace my loves, arms outstretched and grinning like a madman (which a few influential few now think I am and so naturally the whole school will do so also, pray I am easily forgettable and they actually don't have a clue who I am). By the time I came round from my dose of extreme happiness it was too late. I had been stood there with my arms outstretched and grinning ludicrously for too long already to be able to truly save myself. It wasn't my friends who had been coming towards the bathroom. In all my excitement I never considered that other people might actually be going towards the direction of the bathroom. Come on, in my defence, we'd been on the train not even half an hour, who needs to pee that soon?

Well apparently people do, people need to pee half an hour into the train ride, people that I had hoped to avoid so that for once I could arrive to my second home with some dignity and perhaps have a normal, unhounded year. Okay, slight exaggeration; my years are never hounded as people actually don't know who I am. But just because no one knows my name, or sometimes I wonder if they can even see me, doesn't mean that I can't feel the embarrassment crawling down my spine weeks after the event has happened.

No, once again fate had made a mockery of me and I had found myself face to face with four Gryffindor seventh years. Four male Gryffindor seventh years. Four male Gryffindor seventh years who just happened to be able to influence three-quarters of Hogwarts into believing whatever they wanted. I mean if I had to mistake my friends who are girls by the way (well mostly) for four males, that in my defence giggle like girls, and then stand in front of them for an age looking like an escaped mental patient, why couldn't it have been in front of some naïve little first years that I could threaten with loo water and who would have actually had an excuse for being mistaken for girls? Actually if we analyse these events closely I actually lose respect for half of the female population that constitutes Hogwarts. These four Gryffindor males are four of approximately ten of the most wanted men at this school, and they laugh like girls!

Anyway, ignoring that enlightening revelation, when I looked up and I realised that I was in fact stood in front of Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew who were all looking down at me as if I had planned to hide in the bathroom and then jump out at them with my arms outstretched like some pathetic fan girl, I did what any other sane person would have done. I ran back into the toilet cubicle from which I came. And I tell ye, my new formed plan to save face would have worked uncannily well had I not shut the door on my way out and instead of finding myself in the safe sanctuary that the modest cubicle offers I found myself sprawled over the floor with my face in a lot of pain, my skirt hitched up several inches (in a very unrespectful position of which my father would not have been proud and my mother would have congratulated me on thinking that I was finally trying to woo a husband, however odd my wooing techniques were) and not remembering where I was or how I got there.

Thankfully such a state of mind did not last long but sadly it lasted long enough to reinforce my lack of mental security to the four Gryffs. After they had all got over the initial state of shock that had immobilized them and Black and Potter had doubled over laughing whilst Pettigrew looked at me with sympathy trying to contain his laughter like a true gentleman, Lupin was kicked into action by his shivrilous mind set and swiftly walked over to my sprawled body, bending down beside me, taking my hands from my face. Upon seeing the face of Lupin everything that had just happened started to come back to me and thus consequently making my lack of reply help him to further doubt my sanity, when I "came to" properly, I could tell he thought this from the concerned, quizzical look he gave me. It's the same look my mother gives me everyday when I inform her that no, I do not want to wed Lucius Malfoy and no, I do not want his strangely blond, peroxide babies. At registering this look I knew that there was nothing left but to stand up, mutter my thanks for the concern and that I was fine, really, (it wasn't a complete lie, my face no longer hurt but my left leg was dead from the way I'd fallen and my ego had taken a serious beating, but other than that I'm sure if my pride allowed it I'd live another day) and limp off to search the compartments with as much dignity as I had left. This wasn't very much as I had to walk past Black and Potters' hunched forms. I swear they were salivating they were laughing so hard.

It took me only ten minutes to find the right compartment and no other mishaps happened on my journey which I was thankful for. However, on arrival I didn't have the energy to look happy or join in my friends' joyous laughs over the holidays and so I just threw myself into this seat, pulled out my journal and tried not to cry irrationally over another shitty start to the year whilst I retold it in my beloved journal.

My friends keep sending me concerned looks but they know better than to question me, they understand that I need time to gather my thoughts and emotions until I can tell the story without shedding a tear (I hate crying in front of them), however, sadly they didn't know me well enough to come and search for me in the toilet. It doesn't matter though, there's still time for them to learn and I'm sure they'll be plenty more opportunities for them to practise rescuing me in the future.

I really hope this train journey is not proleptic of the rest of my sixth year. If it is I might just stay on the train, return home and grant my mother's wishes and wed some bloke up the wizard-ing hierarchy.

Scratch that, I'll take my chances with fate. There is no man (or woman) in this world that could trick me (using magic or otherwise) into falling into the damning cage that is a relationship.

The mere thought is laughable.

**9:30pm**

**My Dormitory**

Yes, I am happy to say that I eventually had my emotions under control and was able to replay the bathroom commotion to my friends, who like true friends listened attentively and then offered me their words of consolidation…after laughing like hyenas where I was forced to remember the giggling of the four Gryffs, they really do sound similar, throw chocolate frogs at them and pout (quite well if I do say so myself, I have been practising over the summer, I figured that with friends like mine I needed some form of defensive weaponry).

But the best news of my entire day (other than Ray buying me a wooden stick that brings the owner luck) was that the four Gryffs hadn't told anyone what had happened earlier on and I was able to walk into the great hall and eat in safety, away from the humiliation they could have brought me.

Maybe it was the lucky stick that saved me, but I can sleep peacefully knowing that there is not a soul, excluding my friends, in this school that actually knows my name (save the professors, but they don't exactly have a choice) and if they do, that's all I am to them, a name, a face and the daughter of a couple of rich purebloods.

And that's just the way I want to keep it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thursday September 2****nd**

**10:05am**

**Library**

Muhaha. Life is fantastic. I am the proud owner of a lucky stick, of which I am pleased to announce is indeed lucky. Not only did I wake up on time, not fall over any of my belongings that have been thrown (constructively, in my opinion) on the floor and manage to have a hot shower, but I also saw Black on the way to the dining hall. Why he was milling around on the Hufflepuff route to the great hall I have no idea, but I was happy for it. No, I was not happy because I got the "privilege" of being able to wake up to such a beautiful face (I swear I heard him say that to some girl once, how he actually manages to make them swoon with lines like that I'll never know), I was happy because when I walked past him, you know what he said to me? Nothing. That's it. I walked past Sirius Black, well known for receiving sick pleasure from making other people feel uncomfortable and laughing at their misfortunes for his sordid entertainment, and he said nothing to me. Nothing. There were no puns about how I walked into a bathroom door, stood looking like a mental patient with my arms outstretched anticipating a hug, had my skirt hitched up unrespectfully whilst I was sprawled on the floor or had to limp away from my scene of embarrassment. None. Not a one. Therefore it is in my safe conclusion that I could walk to the great hall with a smile on my face with the knowledge that the whole school would never ever find out about the train incident, because the Marauders' didn't even know who I was.

This is cause for a celebration. Such a great idea of mine, I put it forward to my friends with the damning phrase "butter beer on me my little amigos!". Yes, happiness is a damning thing, it takes control of your mind and you stop thinking logically. How on earth could I afford to buy all of my friends butter beers? There's not a one of them that doesn't drink like an elephant (I imagine they drink a lot). Anyway, thankfully once again my lucky stick saw my plea for help and came gallantly to my rescue in the form of Professor Dumbledore. I owe that man so much. He saved me quite possibly my whole Gringotts account; it was then that I was enlightened on why the whole world considers him such a great headmaster. His timing is perfection in itself. Just before any of my friends (I could see Ray herself looking quite eager and sly, about to quickly take me up on my offer, it does make me wonder sometimes how her cunning little arse didn't land in Slytherin) could accept my preposterous and self destructing proposal, good old Albus came along to hand out our class timetables. There's something not quite right about a headmaster as powerful as he doing a lackeys job of handing out timetables and my concerns only doubled when I saw his eyes mysteriously twinkle at me when he handed me mine. It was as if he could see straight through me, back into my past and into the events that took place on that bloody cursed train. I felt naked (I wasn't though, I looked down to check but there I was, fully kitted out in my school uniform). I could have sworn he was laughing at me on the inside, that twinkle in his eyes said it all. Naturally, I asked my friends if they saw it to try and reassure myself that I was just imagining things because I was on edge or nervous about the first day of classes or something stupid like that, but all they said was that apparently his eyes "mysteriously twinkle" quite a lot and he inexplicably knows everything that happens near or in his damning school. I should have learnt by now that my friends, as much as I love them, are absolutely useless at quenching my worries, but what they had said concerned me slightly. Maybe Dumbledore should go and get his eyes tested? I mean what if there's something wrong with them? He can't govern a school with deteriorated sight and he most certainly can't check out Professor McGonagall if he's blind. Perhaps I should warn him. This worry for his sight has been nibbling at me all day, I can't concentrate in my lessons, granted it was History of Magic and an uncanny bore, but still. However, I lack in the courage it would take to tell him face to face, what if he starts shaking with fear about not being able to check out McGonagall's hot booty, or he starts crying? Hehe, okay, so neither of the above would actually happen, for one thing, I don't think Dumbledore would use the word "booty", though I wouldn't put it past him, but I was scared alright! I've already admitted that there is a major reason my arse landed not in Gryffindor and this is it, I have no courage. But still I feel I should warn him. The guilt's eating me up inside. I feel queasy (and it is not because there is some perverted third year eyeing me up and down like a sugar coated quill, I refuse to feel unsettled by someone half my size, although it is rather disturbing I mean, come on I'm three years his senior and is it just me or are boys starting to get perverted at an earlier age than they used to? Maybe if I ignore him he'll stop drooling and look away. Maybe he has a condition and I'm being harsh, I'm wearing robes for Merlin's sake, there's nothing to ogle). That's it, I'm writing Dumbledore a letter (about the eye condition, not his perverted pupils – as in his students, not his eye pupils which he uses to check out Professor McGonagall, though perhaps I could mention that at the same time - his students, not his checking out Professors)…two birds with one stone kind of a thing. It wouldn't really matter anyway if I wrote the letter anonymously. He'd never know it was me. I'm brilliant. Sometimes I do wonder why the sorting hat didn't put me in Ravenclaw.

**12:10pm**

**Library**

My conscious is finally at rest, my soul is flying high, I am free. Yes, I finally gave in to the guilt at knowing such potentially dangerous and devastating information and I constructed a letter immediately for Professor Dumbledore (well I did it just now, after Divitionation and it was mainly because the guilt was making me feel a lack of hunger and I really want to eat because it's lunchtime…and that's what people do at lunch…a valid point I feel, yeah).

This is what I said:

_Dear Professor Albus Dumbledore, Beloved Headmaster of Hogwarts,_

_A concerning notion has been brought to my attention concerning your eyes. I hope not to raise alarm or cause for drastic worry from yourself or your fellow Professors, namely a one Professor Minerva McGonagall, so please try to contain yourself whilst you are reading this letter and in the moments following it. How you act now could determine the fate of your eyesight, maybe even the welfare and duration of your existence._

_I am afraid to inform you that you seem to have, what has become known by the pupils at Hogwarts as, "the mysterious and all-knowing twinkle in the eye", "The eye" being reference to your eye in this case, dear Albus._

_My apologies if this news has caused alarm or great worry to you Sir, but I felt it an obligation to inform you of this mysterious problem before it got out of control and terrible misfortune was brought upon because of it._

_However, do not fear, because now that you are informed of such a potentially fatal problem you can seek the necessary medical information and/or examinations and treatment._

_I wish thee well,_

_Your faithful comrade,_

_PsIt has been brought to my attention that some of your male school pupils are becoming quite interested in the anatomy of their female peers. Whilst I fully understand that this is not at all that unusual in the male growth cycle it is slightly unnerving when certain third years take up the extra-curricular hobby of letting their eyes rove over their peers that are, for example, three years their seniors. Therefore it would be appreciated if you could find a way to put a stop to such a form of attention being devoted by these hormonally driven youngsters in the library. Thank you._

I feel really uplifted now. I have quite possibly saved Professor Dumbledore's life and therefore also Professor McGonagall's happiness and I have done so in what I feel is a very reassuring and an aloof but informative of the possible danger he could be in, kind of a way. Also, I know I said before that I wouldn't be informing Dumbledore of his perverted pupils but I felt that I should help tell him when one of his students is being mentally undressed in the library, corridors, the common room and the great hall. This one little third year (I think he's in Gryffindor) really travels; one should give him an award for being so persistent if it wasn't so creepy. That and I have no idea how he managed to worm his way into the Hufflepuff common room if he's a little Gryff. Unnerving.

Anyway, now that I am guilt free and my conscious is light as a feather and floating around unburdened at a leisurely pace, I'm off for some lunch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Friday September 3****rd**

**3:00pm**

**Hufflepuff Common Room**

Hullabaloo. My cover was very nearly blown. This is what happens when I don't carry my lucky stick (which I have taken to calling Marvin) around with me twenty-four-seven – humiliation.

It's my own fault; it's true I can blame no one else which only makes my pain hurt more. I'd love someone else to blame right now! I woke up late. Who knew that such a simple action could derail my entire day? Why is it that life feels the need to mock me? Is it entertaining to you life? Do you enjoy my humiliation? Does it bring you joy? I feel bullied. Normal people, they can wake up late and the worst thing that happens to them is that they miss out on all the blueberry pancakes at breakfast and then you know what? They can just walk down to the kitchens and ask the elves to make them some more! These people don't even know lucky sticks exist!

But I do.

I woke up late and in my haste to get to breakfast (I know I could have skipped it, but I had Care of Magical Creatures first thing and the cold winter air always makes me hungry and I didn't really fancy people gawping at me because my stomach was rumbling all the way through class) I forgot to pack Marvin. If I shoved him into my skirt pocket maybe I could have been spared my humiliation. But I didn't. And I wasn't.

I was unprepared and unsuspecting. I should have learnt by now to always be on my guard! I was pouncing on my blueberry pancakes when it arrived. A letter that in itself looked ordinary but it was being delivered by the most beautiful phoenix I had ever seen. Granted it was the only phoenix I had ever seen, but that it no way diminishes its beauty. As the magnificent bird swooped and dived playfully among the students it gathered the attention of every eye. We all knew who such a bird belonged to. It was unmistakeable. Dumbledore's own messenger. I looked to Dumbledore expectantly and with a faint wave of happiness for him. Never before had I seen him receive mail at breakfast and I welled up because I felt an odd sense of pride for him that he did receive mail. I know it's pathetic but I like receiving mail (usually...well I certainly used to) and I think other people do also because it makes you feel that little bit more loved and cared for.

Then it all started to go downhill. Dumbledore looked at me with those twinkling eyes and winked. Winked. In front of the whole school. For everyone to see and I tell you all those people that were looking at Dumbledore (because this really was the first time he had ever been about to receive mail in the Great Hall) turned to look at me. If I was more suave of a person I too would have looked around trying to find the person he had winked at to throw my fellow students off the case but I am not suave. So naturally I continued staring at Dumbledore, tears in my eyes from when I had been welling up and my mouth slightly ajar. Attractive eh? Then it landed in front of me. As if enough people weren't looking at me already, the bloody bird landed in front of me. The Great Hall had fallen silent and to add insult to injury said bird started to eat my last pancake. The last one!! I didn't know what to do. I was frozen what should I have tackled first? Should I have looked to Dumbledore for advice? But then the bird would have completely devoured my pancake...but if I rescued my pancake then it could attack me, I didn't know if it was vicious! So I continued to sit there...with everyone watching me. Thankfully Dean, ever my faithful rescuer and a smart, knowledgeable Ravenclaw, untied the letter and waved it in front of my face. If I hadn't have been so distraught over my pancake I would have come to my senses and read it, but my senses escaped me and instead I stared teary-eyed at my now empty plate. Once again I totally owe Dean. Knowing me too well, he tipped his pancakes onto my plate, shooed the bird away (which licked him – I didn't know birds could do that – rubbed its head near Dean's chin and then flew off to Dumbledore. I could have taken my pancakes back and it wouldn't have injured me! I feel like a fool) and then waved the letter in front of me once again.

On reading the letter what little dignity I had saved was lost.

_Dear Adrianna Cocoa __Denosove_

_Thank you very much for your letter. I do love to receive post as it makes me feel special and appreciated, which is why I took the liberty of sending Fawkes to you in the Great Hall during breakfast. It is always nice to have a little bit of attention drawn your way, don't you think? And young Adrianna you could do with a bit more attention being diverted your way. That is why after much deliberation I have decided against forbidding attention being dished out to the opposite sex in the walls or grounds of the school._

_However, I do understand that you are slightly unnerved by the Gryffindor third year Fredrick Harper and therefore I have decided to give you permission to enter the Gryffindor common room at anytime during today in order for you to confront him and sort out your difficulties. You do not need a password; the Fat Lady is expecting you._

_I would also like to take this moment to reassure you not to fear about my eyesight. Under your recommendation I have had them checked out by Madame Pomfrey and she assures me that all is well._

_May you enjoy the upcoming weekend._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Albus Dumbledore. _

How did he know the letter was from me? How? How?!

I didn't sign it. I didn't give him any indication of who the sender was and I certainly didn't give him enough information for him to guess who the Gryffindor child was! And sort out our difficulties? He makes it sound as if we've had an argument or a debate not that I've been being perved on! What am I meant to go up to him and say, "sorry for entering your common room, I know I'm a Hufflepuff but Dumbledore said I could just to let you know that I would appreciate it if you controlled your eyes from roaming freely over my body...thanks"?!

And does he really know me so little to think that I would actually enjoy all of the Great Hall staring at me like some kind of zoo animal?

I folded up the letter as casually as possible; thanking my genes that the tanned skin I inhabit doesn't blush and proceeded to eat the pancakes Dean gave me, twitching as little as possible. When the bell rang although my mind was telling me to stand up and stroll out of the Great Hall naturally as if nothing had happened my body wouldn't obey and I stayed rooted to the spot unable to put the fork down even though all the pancakes had now been devoured.

Five minutes later, when all the Great Hall had emptied, teachers and pupils alike. I was still sat there surrounded by my friends who all looked at me in such a concerned manner that it shocked me to the core that no one was even holding back a laugh.

And that's when I finally realised what had just happened.

Although to some people having the whole school look at them and having the headmaster find out that they were the ones who sent them a ridiculous letter is nothing, to me it was my worst nightmare. I could have cried but my body was still numb. Now when I walked down a corridor I wouldn't be able to blend in with the walls, people would notice me. They would remember me from today and take note of all my embarrassing moments. If I fell down the stairs, it would spread, I'd hear people muttering, "you know that girl that received that letter from Dumbledore that day...yeah the one that froze and was a complete loser...well she just fell down the stairs and bared all!...insert evil, bitchy laugh here". It was after this revelation that I broke from my trance to hear my friends asking me questions. I mumbled that I was fine before giving them my award winning reassuring smile (which I don't think they brought) before standing up powerfully with my head held high and strutting five paces towards the exit of the Great Hall. That was before I promptly fainted and Dean had to carry me to the hospital wing.

**3:55pm**

**My dormitory**

On the upside I got to miss all of my classes today at Madame Pomfreys' insistence.

Granted though it is little compensation. I have had to move up to my dormitory so that I can be alone and not be confronted by curious George's as to what the letter from Dumbledore was about when they arrive from last class. On a high note though, my lucky stick is by my side and since he has been I haven't seen a soul that I have not wanted to.

That may change though as I still have to confront Fredrick about that thing. It's not something I can weasel out of either as then Dumbledore will know for sure when the Fat Lady tells him. Maybe it won't be that bad though...but then again if he asks me about it by form of letter again...I don't think I could survive. That's it I will face my fears (hahaha because I haven't been scared enough lately have I? I should take on a new challenge as well. I'm sure my heart can cope. Oh the sarcasm) but I will have my lucky stick by my side.

A/N I am thinking of deleting this story. Your ideas, criticims and opinions would be much appreciated. Thank you.


End file.
